Ache
by Hoperise
Summary: Unable to sleep on a cold December night, Edward muses about many things. His family. His home. His neverending pain. Second chapter explores Alphonse's view... Two-shot
1. Ache

_**A/N: Just a little drabble that's been floating around in our heads for a little bit. Written at late-o'clock at night – so excuse the roughness! Enjoy?**_

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He had always hated this time of year, Ed mused, staring out the window and into the black.

When the mystifying blue sky suddenly disappeared, hiding behind a thick blanket of gunmetal gray. When sleet and rain caused the streets to ice over, making his already uncertain footing even less dependable than usual. When the approaching storms caused a dull, throbbing ache in his shoulder and thigh.

Yes, winter truly was Nature's cruelest of plots.

He grimaced and absent-mindedly massaged his thigh with his good hand, firmly rubbing the heel of his hand against the inflamed skin. He didn't want to bother his shoulder even more by jostling it.

The pain itself wasn't so bad - goodness knew he had certainly endured worse - but what truly bothered him was the simple fact that though the ache might fade, it would never truly go away.

That thought drew a dark chuckle from the young alchemist. How true it was.

The pain of losing his mother.

The pain of severing ties with the one place he truly called home.

The pain of having nearly killed his brother, and instead submitting him to a steel prison.

The pain of every single day, walking down the street and looking in through the windows and seeing happy families gathered around the fire, laughing and joking and demonstrating exactly what it was that Ed was missing. What he would never have again.

And it hurt.

But still he fought against it, stubbornly putting on a brave face, massaging the wound, covering it up with pretty words and endless lies. Lying and lying until he finally had himself all but convinced.

Until another storm arose, and the ache rose to the surface again. Ebbing and flowing, predictable as the tides themselves.

But every pang, every throbbing, pounding ache was another tiny reminder that he was alive. That he was human; that he could feel. And his brother could not.

And so he pressed onwards, struggling past the pain and onto his ultimate goal. Taking it one moment at a time. One heartbeat - one step closer to the truth.

They were slowly but surely moving forwards. That was the thought that comforted him in the wee small hours, when it was all he could do to keep from vomiting in self-revulsion, from falling into a darkness as penetrating and unescapable as that of the icy December night.

But though the ache might fade, it would never truly go away.

He had always hated this time of year...


	2. Remedy

_**A/N: Honestly, we weren't planning on continuing this… but inspiration suddenly struck! Enjoy!**_

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He had always loved this time of year, Al mused, slowly making his way back to the hotel room with a bag of groceries cradled gently in his arms.

When newly fallen snow drifted down from the heavens and coated the landscape in pristine, perfect white; giving the world an inexplicable sense of newness. When the approaching holidays caused even perfect strangers to walk down the streets and exchange joyful grins with one another. When families gathered around the crackling fire, basking in each other's warmth.

Yes, winter truly was Nature's most wonderful gift.

He smiled inwardly, ruefully. Al knew that because of his current 'situation,' he was unable to experience most of those things. It was true – in this body, only those who knew him well could tell if he were happy or upset. And he certainly couldn't feel things like heat or cold.

But this didn't bother him too terribly. Winter was still an incredible season, and year after year, it never failed to awe him with its magnificence. In the presence of such majesty as a forest blanketed with snow, Al was nearly overcome with the sense that anything he did, no matter how small, had an incredible effect on the landscape.

That thought drew a chuckle from the armored alchemist. How true it was.

Every year, with the arrival of winter, his brother was caught up in a cloud of depression. Something about the season bothered him immensely, and though he pretended everything was alright, Al knew him too well.

Knew the pain hidden behind those amber eyes.

Knew the pain he tried to mask with a false grin and a cheery wave.

Knew the pain his brother was constantly put through, and that it was his duty to carry him through it. After all, who else would? Who else _could?_

So every winter, Al did his best to take care of little things like this for Ed. It was brotherly love that propelled him through the streets this evening, and back to the hotel they were currently staying at. He stopped briefly to borrow something from the owner's wife, before heading into the room they shared.

Al slipped into the room as quietly as a seven-foot tall suit of armor could, placing the things he'd bought in the cupboards before taking a small parcel, wrapped in a cheery red towel, into Ed's room.

He found him there, hunched over his automail leg; teeth grit against the pain and vacant eyes staring out the window. As soon as the door opened, however, Ed looked up sharply, flushing. Embarrassed to be caught in a moment of weakness.

"Here," Al said, covering the distance between them quickly and handing him the parcel – a hot water bottle, to stave off the aches set upon him by the season.

"Thanks." His brother replied in a clipped tone, gingerly lifting his leg and placing the hot water bottle beneath it, then releasing a slow breath and laying back. The gentle, soothing heat apparently did wonders on Ed's sore limb.

Al made no indication that the scene had even occurred as he sat down beside his brother's bed, saying in a soft, even voice, "So, while I was waiting in line at the grocery store, there were these two ladies in front of me, and one of them was telling the other about this perfect hiking trip she'd been on with her husband. Can you imagine it, brother? It was the middle of the day, and the birds were singing in the trees, and the light was filtering through the leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor. And a soft breeze was blowing, lightly caressing their skin…"

His looked to his brother and saw that Ed had been lulled to sleep by his story. Alphonse smiled inwardly again, carefully removing the hot water bottle, but leaving the warm towel. He pulled the blanket up to cover the sleeping boy and quietly, quietly slipped out of the room.

The ache might never go away, but at least he could do something, some small thing to make it easier.

And anything he did, no matter how small, had an incredible effect on the landscape.

He had always loved this time of year…


End file.
